Storyteller
by Epona Harper
Summary: The Dinobots discover a classic of English literature - Revised and Completed!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers, The Hobbit or any of the characters mentioned here. They belong to Hasboro and the Tolkien estate respectively. I showed no profit on this fic other than personal satisfaction and the amusement of my friends. No Autobots were harmed in the making of this fic. Humiliated, yes. Harmed, no. :)

It wasn't a particularly extraordinary day. In fact, the day had been rather quiet. Of course "quiet" is a relative term. "Quiet" in someplace like a library would be pretty close to the orthodox definition. But in Autobot Headquarters...

"Slaggit, 'Jack! Can't you fiddle with _anything_ without it exploding? I swear, you could detonate a completely diffused bomb by just looking at it cross-eyed from across the room!"

A lone teen paused in his travel through the metal-lined corridors and grinned at the exasperated shout echoing down the hall. He took a slight detour to see how many pieces the Autobots' "Mad Engineer" had blown himself into this time.

"You know, I was about eight when Dad managed to pound it into me not to play with fireworks," he quipped as he entered the repair bay. "How old _are_ you now, Wheeljack?"

Ratchet looked up from his work and laughed. "You tell him, Spike. See! Even someone whose species wasn't evolved when you rolled off the assembly line has more sense than you."

The 'bot in question groaned from the diagnostic bed. "Can't you have any compassion for a wounded friend?"

Spike tossed his backpack on top of the work bench before hauling himself up with the help of a nearby crate so he could get a better look at the damage. "It would be easier to have compassion, friend, if this didn't happen every other day."

"And twice on weekends," Ratchet added with a growl as he bent over Wheeljack's mangled arm with a welding torch.

Spike looked over the mess and gave a low whistle. "What was it this time? Playing with anti-personnel mines?"

"One of those bunker buster' bombs," Wheeljack explained with a sigh. "I've been trying to find a way we can attack Decepticon Headquarters directly, and I hoped I could use some of their design to make a missile that would punch through half a mile of water and a foot of armor plating before blowing everything around it to scrap. Unfortunately, modification is proving difficult..."

"And the latest episode of 'difficult' damn near blew your arm off," the medic finished acidly.

"You need any help with this?" Spike asked as he sat back on his heels.

"Nah," Ratchet said with a shake of his head. "I'll have Sir Explodes-A-Lot back on his horse again in no time. Besides, don't _you_ have an appointment?"

Now it was Spike's turn to groan as the others chuckled. "Don't remind me."

"Hey, you did start it," Wheeljack smirked.

"And no good deed goes unpunished," Ratchet added as he reached for another tool.

"I hate you both."

Spike certainly hadn't intended on turning into a Mr. Rogers for the Dinobots. Two days ago, the Ark had been chaotic as every available Autobot and human ally had rushed about repairing the damage left from the last Decepticon attack. The Dinobots, after they'd finished their job of clearing out the debris, were getting underfoot and driving everyone crazy. Spike's half-sarcastic comment to Bumblebee that maybe someone should read them a story was overheard by Swoop who had latched on to the suggestion (and Spike) with gusto. Next thing he knew he was ensconced on a rock outside the Arc with Dinobots in a half circle around him as he read from the only book he happened to have with him at the time, J.R.R. Tolkien's The Hobbit. This had been sufficient to keep the Dinobots out of everyone's hair for the rest of the day. Unfortunately for Spike, they weren't content with a few chapters. The next morning they ambushed the teenage the moment he arrived at the Ark and demanded more. Therefore, to the immense amusement of the other Autobots, Spike had been obliged every day since to read aloud the adventures of Bilbo Baggins.

"You know," Ratchet said musingly, "you could suggest that they read it themselves. Or get them an Audio-Book CD."

"Tried that," Spike said ruefully as he ran a hand through his hair. "They said it wasn't the same. At least I can beg off after a couple chapters by saying my throat's drying out."

"I don't think that will work today," Wheeljack said with an evil gleam in his optics. "I saw Slag earlier. He was carrying a cooler."

The teenager let himself fall back on the bench and stared balefully at the ceiling. "Kill me now."

Ratchet put down his tools for a moment. "In all seriousness, you don't _have_ to do this. If you're really bothered by it, tell them no. They'll get over it."

Spike stared at the ceiling a second more, then propped himself up on his elbows. "Well...actually, I don't mind that much. It is kinda fun. I just wish they'd let me skip a day or two without giving me those looks that send me on an all-expense-paid guilt trip. Though I don't blame them. It is a good story, and it is more fun when it's read to you aloud." A bittersweet smile spread across his face. "Mom read it to me for bedtime stories before she...before she died. This one, the Lord of the Rings and the Narnia books..."

Wheeljack's smile was obscured by his facemask but mischief showed clearly in his optics. "Hmmmm....I'll have to tell the Dinos about those."

"Don't you dare!"

"Come on, Spike! You know Slag and Swoop will be bugging you for more Hobbit stories the day after you finish that book. Just think of it as practice for when you have kids."

"When I have kids, I won't be in danger of getting accidentally smashed into pulp if they re-enact the Troll Scene."

The two Autobots burst into laughter at the image that brought up, and Spike found himself joining them. "Well, one step at a time," he said when he caught his breath. "Let me get the Company out of the Misty Mountains, and maybe they'll let me take a break."

"Gotten to the riddle contest yet?" Ratchet's curiosity had been piqued when Spike's readings had begun and read the book himself one night.

"Not yet, not yet, my Precioussss." The change in the human's voice startled the medic so badly that he nearly dropped a laser probe into Wheeljack's arm, and Wheeljack, who had only heard snippets of the story when he checked on the Dinobots, nearly jumped out of his armor. The both turned to the human who was now grinning like a maniac. "Riddlesss In The Dark' is next, my Preciousss," he hissed. "We reads it to naughty Dinobotsesss today." Spike narrowed his eyes at Wheeljack as he hunched his shoulders over and cocked his head at a strange angle. "Praps, nice Autobot be grateful to usss. We keeps his Dinobotsess happy, we does. Yesss, Preciousss."

"Stop that!" Ratchet said sharply. "You're freaking me out, and I know what you're doing."

"What the slag _is_ he doing?" Wheeljack asked, alarmed.

"I'll explain it to you later."

Spike laughed as he straightened back up. "I'd forgotten how much fun that was."

"What was?"

"His Gollum imitation."

"And who is Gollum?"

A boisterous voice echoing down the hall cut off any answer. "Where Spike! Me, Snarl say time for story!"

"Your audience awaits, oh mighty storyteller. Go freak them out and let me work."

With a rueful chuckle, Spike grabbed his pack and jumped off the table.

"It said so, yes; but it's tricksy. It doesn't say what it means. It won't say what it's got in its pocketses. It knows. It knows a way in, it must know a way out, yes. It's off to the back-door. To the back-door, that's it.'"

Spike glanced up at the enthralled Dinobots scattered on the dusty ground around the stone he was perched on just outside the Ark's entrance. He smiled as he went on reading. It was obvious to anyone that they were completely caught up in the story. The Dinobots leaned forward as the pace of the tale quickened. Spike's voice led their imaginations scrambling through the tunnels to blind leap over Gollum as he blocked the way, then on through the Goblin guard room and the tight squeeze through the door into the sunlight. Spike then laid the open book on his lap and leaned back against the sun-warmed stone. "Well," he said after a few seconds of silence. "Any questions before we go on?"

The human always paused for questions between chapters. There was no way around it. When he'd first started reading the book, the Dinobots had interrupted him every other sentence asking about unfamiliar words. What's a Hobbit? What are Dwarves? What does "confusticate" mean? Finally, he'd laid down an iron-clad rule that any and all questions must be held till the end of each chapter when he would answer them at once.

Slag finally broke the silence. "Me don't understand. Why Bilbo not kill Gollum? Left enemy at back. Not smart."

"Slag not listening," Swoop broke in. "Not fair fight. Bilbo had ring and sword!"

"And Bilbo felt sorry for Gollum," Sludge murmured. "Me Sludge feel sorry for Gollum too."

"Slag not care if Bilbo sorry for Gollum. Was stupid! Gollum not fight fair. Why Bilbo fight fair?"

"Me Grimlock want to know how ring can turn invisible."

Spike sighed and prepared to explain (yet again) the concept of magic when he caught sight of a certain Autobot pulling up to the front gate. "Hey, maybe you should ask Mirage about that. He knows how to turn invisible."

"That right! Mirage go invisible!"

"Mirage have Bilbo's ring?"

"We go ask."

As one, they galloped off. When Mirage transformed, he found himself surrounded by a pack of shouting Dinobots. Spike couldn't help but grin at the perplexed and rather alarmed look on the Autobot's face.

"That was a nasty trick."

"Come off it, Jazz. He had it comin' the way he and Sunstreaker were making fun when we first started this gig." The human reached for a bottle of water from the nearby cooler. "Besides, I need a break."

Jazz looked down from his perch just above and to the right of Spike's rock. He had joined Spike's audience the second day and seemed to be enjoying both the reading and the occasional chaos immensely. "Wasn't criticism, man," he snickered. "That was admiration. I couldn't have done better myself."

The tail end of the conversation was caught by Hound as he came out to investigate the noise. He took one look at the chuckling pair, then turned to the maelstrom surrounding Mirage and shook his head. "Jazz, Jazz. You're corrupting this poor, innocent human."

Jazz put on a hurt look. "Corrupt? Moi?"

Hound rolled his optics and found a comfortable seat nearby. "You're still at it, I see," he said gesturing to the open book.

Spike gulped a couple of mouthfuls of water before answering. "Yeah. Held to it by force of Hobbit if nothing else."

The blocky, green robot slapped a hand over his optics and groaned at the pun while Jazz and Spike howled with laughter. "Jazz, I say again, you're a bad influence."

"Till the day they haul me off to the scrap yard," the saboteur crowed.

When the laughter died down, Spike stood up to stretch out his back. "So, Hound. You've come to join the fun?"

"I guess so. Trailbreaker and I were planning to hit the trails due north of here, but he doesn't get off shift for another hour or so. I figured this would be a pleasant way to kill time."

"That it is. We've got loads of entertainment right here." Jazz snickered again as Mirage finally broke free of the pack of Dinobots, transformed and burned rubber into Headquarters. The Dinobots looked after him for a moment as if they were thinking of pursuing but seemed to think better of it and slowly walked back toward the rocks.

Hound looked down at the book, then back at Spike who was rummaging through his backpack for a snack. "Are you _really_ going to read that whole thing to them?"

"Kinda committed to it," he answered as he sat back down.

"Stupid Mirage not tell Dinobots how ring works," Slag grumbled as he settled himself on the ground. "Want more story."

"Okay, guys. Here we go." Spike opened the book and found his place. "Bilbo had escaped the goblins, but he did not know where he was. He had lost hood, cloak, food, pony, his buttons and his friends. He wandered on and on, till..."

"Hey, guys?" Heads turned in unison to see Bumblebee standing at the entrance with a puzzled look on his faceplate. "I hate to interrupt you, but is there any particular reason Mirage is in the maintenance bay ranting about rings and Dinobots wanting to open up his photon disruptor?"

Spike, Hound and Jazz looked at each other for a moment...and burst into laughter.

* * *

Quotations are from -

"Riddles in the Dark", page 80 of The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien,

"Out of the Frying-Pan Into the Fire", page 87


	2. Chapter 2

"You realize your son is up to no good," Wheeljack mentioned to Sparkplug as opened the maintenance panel on one of the Ark's fixed defense guns.

"Tell me something I don't know. What did he do this time?"

"It seems he managed to sic the Dinobots on poor Mirage..."

Sparkplug chuckled and leaned down to rummage through his toolbox. "I caught that bit already."

"...and my sources say he's now got some form of revenge planned for Sunstreaker."

"Hmph. Kid's aiming high then. What did you say was wrong with this scrapheap?"

"Something's throwing the calibration off." Wheeljack hooked a diagnostic module up to several circuits.

"Hey! Let me down!"

The pair looked up to see Swoop flying toward them. In his claws he clutched an rather angry, red mini-bot.

"I SAID PUT ME DOWN YOU OVERGROWN TITANIUM TURKEY!!" Cliffjumper yelled.

"Swoop not turkey! Swoop great eagle. Carry dwarf to safety."

"Who are you calling a dwarf, slag-head?!"

Sparkplug and Wheeljack stared for a moment at the pterosaur as he glided overhead, and then exchanged a knowing look.

"Mystery Dinobot Theater strikes again."

"Christ Almighty," Sparkplug sighed, shaking his head. He pulled out his comlink from his toolbox. "Spike? Where are you?" A small burst of static came over the comlink, before Spike's rather frazzled voice came through.

{Uh, dad. I've kinda got a situation here.}

"Do tell. Would it by any chance have something to do with certain robots' playacting."

{Well...yeah.}

"This could easily get out of hand, son. You shouldn't be encouraging...."

{Encouraging?} Spike interrupted. {Dad, believe me. I am NOT encouraging them! They get these crazy ideas and won't take no for an answer. Right now, I'm stuck on a _very_ high ledge because the rest of the Dinobots were too heavy for Swoop to carry to his "eyrie"!}

Wheeljack started snickering and activated his own com. "Well, get ready for company. Cliffjumper's on his way up."

{Awww, crap!}

Sparkplug rolled his eyes. "Okay, son. Tell us where you are so we can fish you out of there."

{North face of the mountain. Waaaaay too far up. Swoop! What the hell do you think you're doing?!} Faint but furious voices filtered over the com. {It's not my fault! Dad, please get someone up here ASAP before Cliffjumper throws me off the ledge.}

"Will do. Hang in there." Sparkplug switched off his comlink and looked up at Wheeljack. "Any ideas?"

"I'll have Blades get them down. But you'd better get inside. Before Swoop comes looking for more people to 'rescue'."

"Me and anyone else that guy can fly off with. I never realized story time could be so dangerous."

The door into the passageway slid open, but no one came through immediately. After a second of quiet listening, Mirage cautiously peeked his head around the jam. Seeing nothing, he sighed and entered the corridor. To an outsider, it would have seemed like he was navigating deep in enemy territory instead of the heart of Autobot headquarters. At the sound of loud voices filtering down the hall, he froze, ready at an instant to go invisible. He relaxed a bit when he recognized the sound as Ironhide arguing rather enthusiastically with Hoist. The blue Autobot resumed his trek down the hall. The control room door was in sight. Once there he could relieve Jazz, safely immerse himself in his duty shift and no longer worry about being pestered by overgrown metallic lizards.

But first he had to get there. More loud voices started to echo down the hallway and this time he heard a distinct, "Me Grimlock.." rise above the rest. He abandoned stealth and made a break for the door. His clattering dive through the door caused all heads in the room to swivel toward him.

"Hey there, Bilbo!" Jazz called out from his post. "Here to take over, or hiding from your dwarf buddies?"

Mirage groaned and hid his optics with his hand as Sideswipe, who had apparently been keeping Jazz company, chuckled at his discomfort. Two days had passed since the Dinobots had ambushed him. He didn't know what was worse; fending off Swoop's attempts to recruit him in their playacting or being tagged (likely for a very long time) with this degrading nickname by the rest of the Autobots.

"For the last time, Jazz, I ask you not to call me that. I. Am. Not. A. Hobbit."

"I don't know," Sideswipe drawled cupping his chin contemplatively. "There are a few more similarities between yourself and the infamous Mr. Baggins than just your invisibility trick."

Jazz grinned. "Yeah. For one, you _do_ live underground."

"In case you didn't notice, you heathen, we _all_ currently live underground," Mirage ground out between his faceplates as he took Jazz's post. His tone, however, did not deter the pair in the least.

"You're both the 'upper crust' of your respective societies."

"You both prefer comfortable living to adventure."

"But you've got to admit he's pretty good at adventure when forced to it."

"Again, like a hobbit."

Mirage glared at them. "Don't you have something else you should be doing?"

"Nope," Jazz answered cheerfully. "Gonna have to face it, man. You're the Cybertronian version of Bilbo and there ain't nothin' you can do about it."

Mirage buried his face in his hands and groaned as his colleagues roared with laughter. "I completely and utterly despise you all."

"Poor Autobot," crooned a soft voice as the others began to reign in their hilarity. "Praps he learns not nice to make fun of humanses. Yesss, Preciousssss."

"You!" Mirage sat bolt upright and spun his chair around. There in the doorway, with a camera bag slung over his shoulder, was the author of his current troubles. "Don't you dare come near me, you protoplasmic imp! You can tell your friends that I'm on duty, and they cannot draft me for their fool games."

Spike gave a cackling laugh and darted across the room. With two crates and a shelf, he managed to bound to the top of the control panel without any assistance. The other Autobots noted absently that being forced to manage in an environment where things were several orders of magnitude larger than humans could easily use had resulted in the development of some remarkable agility. However, it was all lost on Mirage when Spike landed on all fours by his control panel and started imitating Gollum's body language as well as his voice. To Jazz and Sideswipe's immense amusement, he drew back from the human as if from a poisonous creature.

"Susssspicccioussss Mirage," he hissed. "Not play with him today. No Precioussss." He craned his neck upward while pulling his shoulders down and back. "Here to collect friendses we are. Has other fish to fry we does."

Mirage relaxed marginally, but not much when he took in the smiles on the other Autobot's faces. "Really. What other 'fish' would this be? And for Primus sake, talk to me like a normal person."

Spike laughed and relented. "Well you might remember a certain handsome Autobot who joined you in heckling me. Very good-looking mech. You might say pretty as an elf. Or an elf-king." His grin turned maniacal. "I mean, he even has the 'ears' for it."

Mirage's jaw dropped as the implications sank in, and Jazz and Sideswipe went into hysterics. "You can't mean you..."

A commotion in the hall interrupted him. The clatter of heavy feet mixed with enthusiastic Dinobot shouts, and the distressed cries of Sunstreaker overrode them both.

"Watch the chrome! Slaggit, put me down before you scuff me!"

As they turned toward the door, they were treated to a glimpse of four Dinobots carrying a violently struggling yellow mech. Right after them ran Snarl who cradled a wreath made out of red-and-gold painted, sheet-metal "leaves" in his gigantic hands.

"Wait!" he shouted as he chased after them. "Slag drop crown!"

Mirage looked at Sideswipe aghast. "You let him do this to your brother?"

"Let him?" Sideswipe laughed. "Who do you think made the elf-king's crown?"

"No more time to chat, guys," Jazz said as he transformed. "We've gotta hurry if we're gonna immortalize this re-enactment of classic literature."

"Got my camera loaded and ready to go," Spike agreed as he jumped from the control panel and climbed into Jazz's driver's seat. "How much blackmail do you think we could get for the negatives?"

"Forget that, Spike," Sideswipe said with an evil chuckle. "Some things are priceless."

As the trio sped out of the room. Mirage breathed a sigh of relief. "They're insane. Every one of them."


	3. Chapter 3

It was a rotten day.

Of course, for Gears, most days were somewhere on the scale between "rotten" and "lousy". Once in a while they slipped over into "slagging hell" and even more rarely they improved to "not bad", but today...

Well, today was rotten all right. He'd woken up from his recharge cycle with a glitch in his hip servos which had given him hell all morning. Then his mid-day energon ration had sat wrong in his fuel tank, giving him static surges. And, to top it all off, the weather had taken a turn for the cool-and-damp, causing his stabilizers to frizz like they always did. Engrossed as he was in contemplating his "life sucks, then you rust" view of the universe, perhaps it's no surprise that he was figuratively caught with his hood open when Grimlock came barreling around a corner in high dungeon.

The behemoth barreled into the mini-bot with an absent "Out of my way!". Given the Dinobot outweighed Gears by a factor of at least five, it was inevitable that he would come out the worse for the confrontation. The Autobot found himself thrown against the wall with a resounding clang and fell to the floor, leaving him with a whole new list of complaints to obsess over. His processor had just finished inventorying the damage done to his aft when the sharp tap-tap-tap of lighter footsteps came down the hall. Gears looked up to see Spike round the corner at a sprint. The human skidded to a stop when he caught sight of the mini-bot.

"Oh! Hi, Gears. Did you see..."

"An overgrown iridium iguana come barreling through and stomp my aching circuits into the ground without so much as an 'excuse me'?" Gears snapped.

Spike cringed a bit. "Well...yeah."

"He went that way," Gears said, jerking his thumb in the right direction as he hauled himself to his feet.

"Thanks, Gears," the human said absently as he resumed his pursuit. Gears frowned sourly then resumed cataloguing his grievances with the universe in general. Someday, he intended to present Primus with a detailed list of all the irritants, annoyances and outright catastrophe's he had endured and demand to know why him.

"Grimlock!"

"Go away! Me Grimlock no want to listen to stupid story anymore."

Spike groaned silently as he tried to catch his breath. Things had been going so well. They'd made it to Lonely Mountain with little incident. After his little payback with Sunstreaker (the Lambo had practically gone into hiding after the pictures of Elfking Thrandul the Golden had made the rounds of the base), Spike had managed to keep the Dinobots' playacting mostly within bounds. Knowing the chaos likely to ensue when they reached the chapter "Fire and Water" where Smaug attacked Lake Town, he'd gone to Wheeljack for help. The engineer had set up an obstacle course on the far side of the volcano. When the chapter had been read and the Dinobots started to argue over who would get what part in their version, Spike had been ready with the suggestion that they have a race through the course to decide. First place got to be Smaug. Second got to be Bard the Bowman. Of course, he then had to go _back_ to Wheeljack and ask if he could whip up a giant bow and arrow for Snarl to shoot at Grimlock with, but, on the whole, things had gone off without too much annoyance for the other Autobots.

But now, they had reached the debacle over the treasure of Lonely Mountain, in particular the Arkenstone. And Grimlock had not taken well the news that his hero, Thorin Oakenshield, was ready to go to war over a shiny rock.

"Come on, Grimlock," Spike pleaded as he walked over to the sulking giant. "It's only a story. And you've liked it so far."

"That before Thorin get stupid!" the Dinobot growled. "Fight over rock. Grimlock liked Thorin. Tolkien stupid. Why he make story that make me like Thorin, then he do this?"

Spike sighed and leaned against the wall. "Well, Grimlock, answer me this. Do you know why humans tell stories?"

The Dinobot looked down at the boy, indignant. "They fun."

"That's part of the reason," Spike allowed. "But there's something more. We tell stories to also teach lessons. I mean, it's one thing to tell someone that this is right and this is wrong. But it somehow seems to take better when we're told that as part of a story, and we can _see_ why that is."

"Lesson?" Grimlock scowled. "What me supposed to learn from stupid rock?"

"Not the rock itself," Spike explained patiently. "I agree. The Arkenstone is a lousy thing to fight over. But it really isn't the rock that causing the fight. It's Thorin's greed and pride. That's the lesson that the story's teaching. How greed and pride can lead to terrible, terrible things."

"Well, Thorin should know better!" Grimlock protested. "Him leader. Should not make dwarves fight for stupid things."

"Well, Thorin's only a person," Spike said, shaking his head sadly. "That's just the thing. All leaders are just people. And people make mistakes."

"Me Grimlock leader. And me Grimlock no make mistakes."

"Oh, really?" Spike cocked his head to the side as he looked up at the Dinobot with a wry half-smile. "I seem to remember a little incident involving cybertonium."

Grimlock stood silent for a moment, obviously at a loss. "So me make one mistake," he said grudgingly.

Spike quickly smothered a chuckle and shoved himself away from the wall. "Come on, Grimlock," he cajoled. "Let's get back to the story. Sludge was kinda upset when you stormed out. Besides, Gandalf is about to show up again."

That caught Grimlock's interest. "Gandalf? Where wizard been?"

Spike grinned impishly at the T. Rex. "If you wanna find out, you have to listen to more of the stupid story," he said in a sing-song voice.

"Okay, okay," Grimlock said testily. "Me listen to story."

The two of them set off down the hall, Spike jogging to keep up with Grimlock's rather leisurely pace. Spike began to breathe a sigh of relief as they neared the Ark's entrance. Although, perhaps it was a little too soon to relax.

"Prime!"

Grimlock had caught sight of the Autobot leader down an adjoining passage and abruptly turned to intercept. Spike swore silently and swerved to follow. "Prime! Me Grimlock have something to say to you."

Optimus Prime paused and turned. "Yes, Grimlock?"

The Dinobot stalked up to the commander and poked him in the chest with a finger. "Me Grimlock say Dinobots no fight for stupid reason! And you no try to make Dinobots fight for stupid reason!"

Optimus was rather nonplussed. He looked briefly down at Spike who rolled his eyes and shrugged helplessly. Then he turned back to Grimlock.

"You have my word, Grimlock. No fighting for stupid reasons."

"Good." With that, Grimlock turned on his heel and continued on his way. Optimus looked back down at Spike.

"Do I even want to know?"

"I don't think so," Spike answered. "Though, when I start college this fall, I think I'll definitely major in psychology."

Prime stood just inside the Ark's main entrance and watched the tableau before him. Despite his words to Spike earlier, he was rather curious as to the reason for Grimlock's peculiar outburst. So he lingered just out of sight and listened to the story as it progressed. He managed to deduce most of the motivations of the building tensions between the factions of elf, dwarf and human in the story, and listened in fascination as the sudden plot twist of the goblin army was introduced.

_I suppose every culture has a variation of "the enemy of my enemy is my friend",_ he mused as the Dinobots became more and more excited at the narration of the battle. He found himself mentally charting the course of the battle, contemplating borrowing Spike's copy of the book to use its maps to get a more accurate idea of the terrain, and assessing the various battle strategies. And, when the chapter ended abruptly with Bilbo being knocked unconscious, he smiled beneath his face mask as the Dinobots clamored for more.

"Okay, okay, just give me a second," Spike admonished. The human took a quick swallow from his water bottle and turned to the next chapter. "When Bilbo came to himself, he was literally by himself. He was lying on the flat stones of Ravenhill, and no one was near..."

"What!?" Slag protested. "What happen to fight! Slag want to know what happened with battle."

"I'm getting to that part," Spike said patiently. "Just hang on."

The young man returned to his reading. When it was revealed that the battle ended while Bilbo was unconscious, there was another rumble of protest from his audience which was quelled by a glare from Grimlock. Prime held his own curiosity in check. He had not studied human literature as much as other Autobots, but he had a feeling this particular device was leading to something significant. He wasn't disappointed. The narrative took them to Thorin Oakenshield as he lay dying from his wounds. The Dinobots were completely silent and still as the King under the Mountain and Bilbo said their goodbyes.

"Bilbo knelt on one knee filled with sorrow. 'Farewell, King under the mountain!' he said. 'This is a bitter adventure, if it must end so; and not a mountain of gold can amend it. Yet I am glad that I have shared in your perils - that has been more than any Baggins deserves.'

'No!' said Thorin. 'There is more in you of good than you know, child of the kindly West. Some courage and some wisdom, blended in measure. If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world. But sad or merry, I must leave it now. Farewell.'"

Whatever came next was drowned out as the Dinobots sent up a keen of grief, startling Prime and nearly making Spike fall off his rocky seat. As the human regained his balance, he spotted the Autobot leader standing in the shadows of the entrance. Optimus gestured with his head, asking silently if the human wanted help with his charges. Spike glanced at the Dinobots, then back at Optimus and smiled sadly, shaking his head "no". _I think I can handle it,_ he mouthed, and settled back to wait. Optimus backed off silently and went back to his interrupted duties.

_Indeed,_ he thought sadly. _It would be a merrier world if we valued simple happiness over power or wealth. It is a pity more beings will not realize this._

Spike breathed a sigh of relief as he reached the last three pages of The Hobbit. It had taken some time and talking to get the Dinobots calmed down after Thorin's death the day before. With the sole exception of Grimlock, the Dinobots had serious issues with Tolkien killing off one of their favorite characters. Spike had thought with half-amusement and half-frustration that it was lucky the author was dead or else the Dinos would be hunting him down, demanding a re-write. That option closed to them, Spike was stuck with the task of doggedly explaining to them that happy endings weren't always a given in either stories or real life - especially in real life. Through it all, Grimlock had remained silent, seemingly lost in thought, but giving Spike an occasional, penetrating glance as the human argued.

In the end, the Dinobots gave their grudging acceptance and settled in to hear how the battle had ended. Spike had left them later that evening mapping out how they were going to do the Battle of Five Armies. This morning, when he returned, Mt. St. Hilary was surprisingly intact...although Ironhide had some pointed things to say to him about being recruited to play Beorn the Skinchanger.

"...'You are a very fine person, Mr. Baggins, and I am very fond of you; but you are only quite a little fellow in a wide world after all!'

'Thank goodness!' said Bilbo laughing, and handed him the tobacco-jar."

Spike closed the book with a silent sigh and looked up at the Dinobots.

"That it?" Sludge asked. "That end of story?"

"Afraid so, guys," Spike said as he stood up and stretched his back. "As they say, 'all good things must come to an end.'"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," a smug voice purred from just behind Swoop. Mirage's form flashed into visibility.

"What you mean by that?" Swoop asked. "There more hobbit stories?"

_Awww, crap!_ Spike thought as he realized what Mirage was out to get a little revenge of his own. The Autobot spy smiled with patently false innocence and turned to the pteranodon. "Didn't Spike tell you? Tolkien wrote a sequel to The Hobbit."

"Sequel?" Grimlock asked. "What this sequel?"

"Oh, you'll love it, Grimlock. It's called The Lord of the Rings," Mirage said with relish. "Bilbo's ring turns out to be the trigger to a war that engulfs all of Middle Earth."

"That's right," Spike broke in, desperate to regain control of the situation. "Turns out that old Necromancer Gandalf went after in Mirkwood was a little more than he seemed."

The Dinobots turned as one to look down at the human.

"Slag say you read us Lord of Rings!" Slag demanded. Spike's heart sank as he saw all his free time for the next year begin to vaporize. But, suddenly, an idea came to him.

"I'd love to, Slag, but you guys know I'm going off to college in a couple months. This book is so long, I don't think we can get it done by then." He turned to Mirage with a sweet, innocent smile of his own. "You know, Mirage, since you're so interested in Tolkien, maybe _you_ could read Lord of the Rings to them."

If it had been physiologically possible, Mirage would have blanched as the Dinobots turned back to him with measuring looks. However, he _did_ look like someone had hit him across the back of the head with an I-beam, and he started glancing around frantically for an escape route.

"I...ah...How could my storytelling skills possibly compare to yours, Spike?" he said, starting to back away. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a patrol to make."

Mirage vanished before the Dinobots could close in. As he heard the invisible Autobot transform and speed away, Spike shook with repressed laughter. Oh, he'd probably read Lord of the Rings to the Dinos as well, but why not let Mirage sweat a bit on this?

_Mettle not in the affairs of humans,_ he snickered silently. _For we are subtle and can be very clever when it comes to payback._

The End

Author's notes: Quotations from:  
"The Return Journey", page 274 of The Hobbit  
"The Last Stage", page 288


End file.
